


Meanwhile

by AuroraRebellion



Category: Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Cain is a moron, Gen, I dunno how long this is gonna be but uh. Its gonna be long i think, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Updates Sporadically, Various OC's for storytelling purposes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 08:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17301389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraRebellion/pseuds/AuroraRebellion
Summary: Lord Marth didn't take Falchion with him to Grust, because he believes Falchion should rest in times of peace.As it turns out, Archanea doesn't really want peace, and Prince Marth will need Falchion after all.-An exploration/explanation of some of the happenings in New Mystery of the Emblem, following Cain as news comes of Archanea's sudden attack.(Note: will contain spoilers for Book 2 of Mystery of the Emblem/New Mystery of the Emblem!)





	1. Bad News

“There you go! That’s much better.”

The recruit smiles hopefully, and Cain beams back.

“Just focus on the grip for a bit longer- we’ll add footwork some time this week. Just not yet, ‘cause you gotta hold your weapon right before you can worry about your feet.”

He steps away, to someone else, but he hears a few of the youngest knights whispering among themselves:

“ _I_ _gotta say, Sir Cain is a little more friendly than Sir Jagen…_ ”

“ _But both are good teachers, aren’t they? Sir Jagen is a lot more experienced, even though he’s colder_.”

He’s being compared to Sir Jagen. He expects it, but he’s curious exactly what conclusion they’ll come to.

“ _True… And Sir Jagen is busy right now… I still can’t believe Emperor Hardin called Prince Marth away so soon before his wedding to Princess Caeda!”_

_“I know, right?! He’s gotta be heartless!”_

That old discussion. He’s definitely been through it before…

He’s still of the opinion Emperor Hardin needs a talking-to, if he’s willing to call Prince Marth off to handle something in Grust when his wedding was so near. The wedding’s going to be delayed now, even more so thanks to the turmoil in Macedon, and honestly? Cain thought the Emperor was better than that. Better at leading, more mindful and respectful of a supposed friend’s time. (Though he does worry about the Macedonian royalty- Queen Minerva has seen enough trouble, and young Princess Maria… When it comes to that, Prince Marth probably was the best choice.)

But, not like sitting and dwelling on all that will do much, not now. Sir Jagen and Prince Marth are counting on him- counting on him to lead the knights, train the green ones, and help Princess Elice when she needs him.

And currently, that job means helping Ethan with his footwork. He’s got the drive to be good, but he’s not exactly coordinated yet.

“Left foot first,” he orders. Ethan starts.

“Yes, Sir!”

He’s still starting with his right foot. Cain sighs even though he kind of wants to laugh but that would be mean, and-

The doors burst open, and someone rushes through, staggering to a halt before the training yard. They’re battered and dirty as if they’ve fallen in the mud a few times and he’s pretty sure that’s blood making that one torn part on their sleeve cling to their arm.

“Sir Cain! I come bearing a message--”

They sway, and Cain holds up a hand to quiet whispers that have followed after the surprised gasps as he hurries over.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

He recognizes the symbol embroidered on the man’s coat. The Second Platoon, one of the ones Sir Jagen has favored. They were sent out to a post in southern Altea a few months back. Abel wrote about seeing them, and did a rough sketch of their crest in a letter that arrived last week.

“There’s- there’s been an attack,” the messenger gasps. “Or will be. Archanea, and… They’ve come to invade!”

What.

_What?_

What does he mean, an invasion?

“We’re allies,” Cain points out. “We serve them. Prince Marth left on Emperor Hardin’s orders! Why would they attack?”

“Their leader claimed Prince Marth is guilty of treason, and of leading an uprising. Captain Allyson sent me to warn you… They’re coming up to the castle. They’re… bigger than we can fight...”

The man slumps forward, but Cain catches him before he falls.

Prince Marth? Treason? Rebellion? The only reason he would do that is if Emperor Hardin was seriously in the wrong, but wouldn’t he come back to Altea to say it? Wouldn’t Sir Jagen at least send a warning of the trouble to come?

“Someone fetch a healer!” He orders. That much is a clear course of action. “And-”

This isn’t good news. This is news that affects all of Atlea.

“Is Kace here? I need to speak with Princess Caeda and Princess Elice! ...And then Sir Frey!”

There’s a bit of murmuring, then Kace speaks up, saying the Princesses will be told. He might have said ‘thank you’ in return but he’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really think about it.

An invasion. Prince Marth-

No, Prince Marth wouldn’t. Prince Marth would have done what he thought best, what was _right_ , even if it went against orders.

He makes sure the messenger is taken care of, and Kace tells him Princess Elice and Princess Caeda are expecting him in the council room, and he hurries off.

 

The only thing that keeps him from flinging open the doors is the knowledge that he might hit someone on the other side, and even then he opens them quickly and hurries inside.

“Cain,” Caeda calls as she stands up, “What’s happened? Kace came with your message…”

He realizes this isn’t the first time Kace has delivered bad news. He’ll have to give the poor knight some extra time off after all this, just as a favor for bearing the message of trouble.

“I don’t know, Your Highness,” he answers truthfully. “I just know the messenger came from southern Altea, and that Archanea is marching north...”

Caeda’s eyes go wide, while Elice simply stares down at her clasped hands.

“What?! Why?”

“The claim is that Prince Marth has turned against the Empire.”

“Marth would never!” Caeda cries. “Elice, what are we going to do?”

Elice takes a deep breath before speaking.

“What are their numbers?”

Caeda looks back over at Cain, but he fumbles

“Big,” he replies lamely. “The messenger might be able to tell us more, but he’s in no shape to meet us here right now.”

“Then… We should assume we can’t fight. We’ll surrender.”

“Princess Elice-” Cain begins, only to be cut off.

“Please. My duty is to Altea, and to keep them safe. Caeda… I’ll need you to go to Macedon and tell Marth.”

“And you’re staying?” Caeda asks. Elice nods.

“Why _can’t_ you go?” Cain cuts in. “I can stay here. I have fellow knights who can keep the castle safe, and keep everyone calm during the surrender. Prince Marth would be more at ease with you at his side…”

Elice smiles sadly and shakes her head.

“If I ran, wouldn’t that make everyone more worried than they already are? You couldn’t promise I was safe…”

“You can’t promise you’ll be safe anyways!” Cain exclaims.

Even though he isn’t here, he can feel Sir Jagen’s glare for shouting at the Princess.

“...Sorry. My bad.”

“No, you’re right though,” Caeda says. “Elice, last time… Gharnef had you. How do we know you won’t be kidnapped again, by someone else? Or you could be killed!”

“Would you rather have someone else die in my place?”

“I’d do it, Your Highness,” Cain interjects.

“I won’t make you. I’m staying. ...Please, don’t argue any more.”

Cain settles back, and Caeda closes her mouth. Elice looks back down at her hands.

“I am going to stay behind… But Marth needs to be warned. Caeda, you should go to him.”

“Me, and not you?”

“Yes, you and not me. You, with your pegasus, can get away, and should it come to it… You were an invaluable ally to Marth during the war. He’ll need you if there’s a second.”

“I…”

Caeda bites her tongue, and clenches her fists.

“...I’ll go get ready to leave.”

With that, she turns and leaves. Elice doesn’t even look up to bid her farewell.

Cain decides the oppressive silence is too much, and mumbles a “ _Goodbye, Your Highness,_ ” as he slips off to find Frey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, everyone, to chapter one of a fic idea I've had in my head for a long time.


	2. Addressal

“Are we going to surrender?” Frey asks instead of a greeting, as Cain walks up. Cain nods shortly.

“Yep. Princess Caeda’s going to Prince Marth, and Princess Elice will stay here. We gotta…”

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, to breathe. What would Sir Jagen order, how would he say it? They should, they must, they have to...

“We need to make it clear- we’re not going to fight. In fact, send everyone who can go home, home.”

“Understood. I’ll speak with the guard, and leave the younger knights to you.”

“Thanks, Sir Frey,” he responds. He’s glad he’s not alone in this mess.

“Of course. If I see some of the younger knights…”

“Training yard. You?”

“The lecture hall. By the way, I spoke with the messenger. His name is Jonigeld. From what he’s told me, we should expect Archanea’s forces here tomorrow afternoon, and they won’t take…”

Frey pauses.

“To put it nicely, they won’t stand for any sass.”

“No bullcrap, got it,” Cain says. It almost gets a chuckle from Frey.

“I was trying not to put it so bluntly.”

“I think the recruits should expect it. Thanks again Sir Frey, see you later.”

He walks off, running through what he needs to say. They’re going to surrender, and they’re _not_ going to put up a fight. They need to stay calm and also anyone who lives in the capital or one of the immediate surrounding villages is welcome to go home to their families. Sir Frey is also someone to listen to, too, and if anyone doesn’t listen they’ll…

They’ll…

Get stable duty? Is stable duty harsh enough, when they’re preparing to lie low under a suddenly hostile rule? He doesn’t know how this works, last time someone took over _he_ was one of the first to be sent on the run! He sure didn’t surrender at any point…

Someone walks up beside him, and he spares a glance to see who.

Dark ocean-green hair, and sharp eyes set in a round face. Lorlei, captain of the Twelfth platoon, and one of the younger knights… (And he's inclined to be biased in the Twelfth’s favor, honestly. They're good- not exactly like the Seventh, off with Prince Marth, but close.)

“Sir Cain,” Lorlei begins, “What’s the news? What are our orders?”

He was just thinking about it. What are they going to do? What are they doing? They’re surrendering, they’re not fighting, they’re- they’re listening to Sir Frey but what should he say first? How is he going to tell everyone at once he can’t speak to all the castle at once…

He needs them in one place. One place. ...Lorlei’s orders.

“Gather all the knights you can find,” he says. “The training yard. Sir Frey’s… he’s got the royal guard in the lecture hall. I need everybody else. The Twelfth can do that, right?”

“We’re on it, Sir!”

Lorlei salutes, then jogs off down the corridor. He’s glad the captain is so quick with everything. He’s getting bogged down and it’s been like… Probably ten minutes. Yikes.

There’s still a good portion of the youngest knights in the training yard, milling about and talking. Cain can almost taste the nervous energy, lingering in the air with no outlet or direction, and he knows that’s likely not good. They need something to do.

“Attention!” He shouts. Everyone whips around to face him as he walks into the yard, and he stops before them.

“I’ll tell you all everything you need to know soon, when everyone else gets here. I’ve summoned all available knights except for the royal guard here, and…”

They need something to _do_ before then.

“And they’ll need a place to stand! Get the training dummies and the weapons to the storage room, tell anyone you see on the way to gather here! Understood?”

There’s soft murmuring among the group. Cain tries to be stern like Sir Jagen.

“I’ll try to be simpler. Clean up the training yard! Tell anyone you see to come here! Come back! _Am I clear?_ ”

There’s a few ‘Yes, Sir’s, but not unified.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Sir!” Someone shouts, and others jump in behind it in an echo.

“ _What?_ ”

“YES, SIR!”

That’s more like it, Cain thinks, and tells them, “Good! You’re dismissed!”

He watches the yard more or less clear out, and in record time. That’s good.

Now _he_ needs something to do. But there’s nothing _to_ do, nothing he can think of, so he settles for pacing back and forth in front of the the doors he entered from. It’s not really enough, but at least he’s moving.

Sir Jagen would know what to do here. He’d take control and make the right choices… Divines, even _Malledus_ would be helpful, harsh and unpleasant as he is. He’s at least smart, even though he has little problem sacrificing lower-ranking soldiers in battle for a tactical advantage, and oh the arguments that happened between Malledus and Sir Jagen...

“Sir Cain!”

He turns. Lorlei again, with Aiden (another of the Twelfth, he runs a lot of errands for the platoon) following close behind. ...And then some more people past that. Cain nods hello and steps aside to let them in.

“Cedric and Alex are still getting people here,” Lorlei reports. “They should be here soon.”

“Glad to hear. Thank you.”

Now that he’s less in his own head, Cain realizes there’s a lot more noise in the yard. Everyone’s back, and plenty more people have arrived as well. Maybe he can do this.

He still would rather it be Sir Jagen, though.  
“‘Scuse me!” A voice calls, “Coming through!” -Someone shouts, sounds like _look out_ \- “What, what do you mean ‘look out?!’ _I’m_ the one saying that-!”

Cain turns, right as the blue-haired blur that is Alex barrels into him, and knocks the both of them over. She scrambles back upright, babbling some apology and brushing her hair out of her face as she tries to help him back up.

“Divines, Sir Cain! I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t looking-”

Cain just laughs, and lets her help him up.

“Again, Alex? Not settled with training dummies and walls anymore?”

“Apparently not Sir, I’m so sorry...”

“It’s fine,” Cain chuckles. “Go on, go stand with your platoon. Lorlei’s over there.”

He points, and Alex salutes before running off. ...She almost runs into Lorlei as she skids to a halt. Good to see some people are handling this by not being any different at all.. It’s half a joke, but if Alex of the Twelfth wasn’t herself, that _would_ be a little weird.

He sees another knight (Cedric, he thinks? He's pretty sure it's Cedric, he knows its one of the Twelfth) walk in through another doorway, with a little group behind him, and decides this is as good a time as any.

“Altean knights!” He begins. Silence falls. He’s pretty proud of how well they pay attention, if he’s allowed to brag during all this...

“I’m sure word has gotten around about the messenger who came here earlier,” he tells them all, “And those who heard have probably told others- Archanea is on the march, to Altea, with the intent to invade.”

“Isn’t that just a rumor, sir?” One of the knights asks. He shakes his head.

“It’s not a rumor. It’s true! And by Princess Elice’s orders, we’re going to surrender!”

Whispers fly back and forth, until everyone might as well be talking normally. He waits a moment, then raises a hand to call their attention back.

“We’re surrendering,” he repeats. He can’t quite blame them for losing composure- it still almost feels like some sort of dream to him, too. “And we’re aiming for no one to get hurt. So, if you want, everyone who lives in the capital or in one of the surrounding villages is free to go to their homes. Everyone else will be here until you get told otherwise. Do you understand?”

A sombre ‘yes, Sir’ is his answer. He doesn’t really feel like smiling to encourage them, even though they’re taking this well.

“Good. Now, listen- you will be free to do what you need to, but no one, and I mean _no one_ will be raising _any_ weapons against Archanea! We’re not going to trust that they want to show us mercy, and our goal is to keep as many people as possible safe. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Reply the knights. Some of them are clearly and significantly more enthusiastic than others, yet it sounds like those enthusiastic ones are almost in the majority.

Now, he smiles. This day has already figuratively dragged him through the dirt (for roughly ten miles, and by a pegasus with bowel issues), but at least he can count on the knights to listen when he needs them to.

“That will be all, thank you. You’re dismissed!”

The training yard gradually clears out, and Cain allows himself a little more time to think as it does so.

They’ll be fine. ...Hopefully. There’s still so much he doesn’t know.

But at the same time, when he gave them all a task, they did it well. He’s pretty sure after the weapons and training dummies were cleared out, he saw someone picking up _pebbles_ to clear them out of the way… If Kris were here, he suspects that would have been something he would be doing too- at least, if it was going to be Prince Marth walking through. The kid's a little eccentric somehow.

The weapons, though. That reminds him of something.

_“You’re not taking Falchion, sire?”_

_Marth had just smiled, shaking his head._

_“Falchion is a sacred blade. It’s safest here, where it belongs, and I believe it should rest in times of peace. I won’t wield it against another person unless I’m forced to by another war.”_

If this is really all happening, if Archanea is attacking without being provoked, then… well, he needs to speak with Princess Elice again, and hopefully catch Princess Caeda before she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, this is where the original characters come in! You'll see the Twelfth platoon plenty as this story goes on.


	3. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gathering troops, etc.

He doesn’t catch her.

He goes to speak with Princess Elice, and finds her returning from the castle roof, Sir Frey at her side. He’s just barely too late, as it turns out;

“We just saw her off,” Elice tells him, and he knows Jagen will kill him if it gets out what he's about to do, but he’s too frustrated to care.

He swears. Or more accurately, he says a sentence that is roughly 80% swearwords. And he says it loudly. Frey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“ _Cain_ ,” he says, and that’s all he needs to scold him. Cain decides he’ll worry about that later.

“I needed to talk to Princess Caeda! Falchion is still here-”

Elice’s expression turns grim, and he knows he doesn’t need to say much else to get his point across.

“...Of course,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of that until you said it. It’s too late to call Caeda back now…”

“We’ll have to send someone else,” Frey states. “But we don’t have any more Pegasus knights with us.”

“If Est didn’t live down south, I’d try to find her,” Cain sighs. “But as it is…”

Maybe he can convince her to leave after all.

“Your Highness, if you were to take Falchion to him, I could get together a few knights to escort you.”

“I appreciate that Cain, but I’m not leaving. Send those knights on their own.”

Well, so much for that.

“Or perhaps _you_ could go,” Frey suggests. “Take those same knights with you, and go to Lord Marth. He could use your help.”

 _Oh, he doesn’t like that_. Leave everyone on their own, without him? He knows they’re capable, but what if they need him? Won’t they be upset, if their current leader _flees_?

...That’s how Princess Elice feels, isn’t it. Ugh, he can’t ask her to leave any more.

“I’ll think about it,” Cain says.

“How long?” Frey asks. He doesn’t have long to think, does he.

“I’ll let you know once everyone else is ready,” he says. That seems to be enough for the both of them, and he bows to Princess Elice before leaving.

 

He’s already decided he’s going to ask some of the Twelfth about all this. He trusts them, he’s worked with them personally, they've already stepped up to help, and he knows they can do it. Maybe Cedric, and Lorlei, and Alex- for all her crashing into things during training, he knows she’s reliable- and then Terrius, and Aiden…

That leaves Marcie and Elias, but he’s not sure Elias can work with everyone that well, not yet, and Marcie is like, ten. (Well, she’s actually eighteen. The youngest of the platoon. He doesn’t want to see her get hurt.)

He knocks on the doorway to their area of the barracks, and Aiden’s indigo hair is the first thing Cain sees as the door opens.

“Hello, Sir Cain,” Aiden greets. “What brings you here?”

“I need to talk to you all. Is now a good time?”

“It can be if you need it to.”

“What is it he needs?” Alex asks, from in the room.

“I’m not sure,” Aiden replies, “He hasn’t said. Come on in, Sir Cain.”

Aiden steps aside and holds the door open, and Cain walks in. Alex is laying across one of the beds, nearly hanging off it, Cedric and Terrius seem to have been talking together, Elias is in his usual corner, and Lorlei is busy tidying up the room in general.

“I have a mission for… Most of you,” Cain announces. Lorlei pauses in their cleaning.

“A mission, Sir?” Cedric asks.

“You’ll be delivering something important to Prince Marth himself.”

“What is it?” Terrius asks. Cain realizes it’s not really the best choice to tell everyone, when they’re not definitely going...

“You’ll have to be on-board for it first! And like I said, it’s not everyone,” Cain explains. “Elias and Marcie will be staying here, even if everyone else agrees.”

“Why only them?” Alex asks.

“The smaller the group, the better,” he says. “And with the number we have, we can split up into groups of two.”

“Or three,” Lorlei adds. He curses math for being math.

“...Yeah, that too. What do you all say?”

A few beats of silence, then:

“Will you be leading us?” Lorlei asks.

Will he? He doesn’t like the idea of leaving the castle on its own, but the idea of letting Lorlei and the others go alone, and him _not_ going with Prince Marth…

He likes that even less. That settles it.

“Yep! I’ll be leading you.”

“I’m in!” Alex chirps. “It’s gotta be better than sitting in the castle doing nothing!” Lorlei nods in agreement.

“Terrius and I are in,” Cedric says. Aiden seems slightly more uncertain.

“As long as you trust the other two are safe,” he says.

“They’ll be as safe as they can be,” Cain says. “I can’t promise anywhere will be really safe… But the castle’s probably a better bet.”

“...Alright then, I’ll help.”

“We leave tonight, then! Sorry to spring this on you so soon, but… Well, everything happened quickly, didn’t it?

“To say the least,” Lorlei comments. “It’s been a lot.”

“We can do this, though!” Alex cheers, as she rolls off the bed ( **_thud--_ **), and then jumps to her feet. “I’ll go get ready! Who’s coming with me?”

“I’ll come with,” Cedric says. “Let’s stop by the stables, too.”

“Might as well join you if you’re doing that,” Lorlei interjects.

Alex beams, and bounces out of the room, followed by Cedric and Lorlei.

“So I’m staying here?” Elias asks. “Me and Marcie?”

“Yeah, you’ll be staying here,” Cain replies. “You’ll answer directly to Sir Frey. I’ll be counting on you to help where you can.”

Elias frowns… And then sighs.

“Understood, Sir Cain.”

“Thanks, Elias. Aiden, can you tell Marcie about all this?”

“Will do, Sir.”

“Thank you! I have to go get ready myself, so I’ll find you when we’re about to leave.”

“Understood, Sir.”

“Great. See you soon.”

With that, Cain walks back out. Now he’s got to let Sir Frey and Princess Elice know that he’s leaving, and...

Oh, hopefully him carrying around Falchion won’t inspire Naga herself to like, smite him or something. That’d kinda suck if that happened in the middle of trying to get the sacred sword to Prince Marth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long has it been since I updated? Who knows, but even if updates are slow, I don't intend to abandon this. Thank you for your patience!


	4. Considerations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's still more to do, and Cain's thoughts have a tendency to wander and go disjointed at the very worst of times.

Turns out, just carrying Falchion doesn’t put Naga in the smiting mood, thankfully. Maybe because it was Princess Elice who took it from its place, because it was her who put it in his hands. Honestly it felt incredibly casual, but they _are_ in a rush...

Either way, Falchion is now in its sheath, in his hands, and it’s a little heavier than he expected. If Prince Marth wields this all the time, no wonder he can handle Armorslayers and such with ease.

There’s still so much to prepare, he knows. They’ll be travelling for days, likely, over land and sea, and they’re not guaranteed to have much time to stock up on supplies as they go. They probably won’t have any time at all, really, given they’re trying to reach someone branded a traitor (Prince Marth! A _traitor_! How _dare_ they _\--_ ) to the Holy Empire. They’ll need food, and waterskins, and a way to prepare a boat and… Oh, what else will they need? How much?

As he’s trying to figure out whether he can keep Falchion at his side like Lord Marth does by replacing the usual sword he carries with it, he nearly drops it, sheath and all. Crap. Better not do that.

That reminds him though, they’ll need weapons! Of course they’ll need weapons, but for everyone else’s sake he better be smart enough to remind everyone, just in case they forget like he might have.

Man, forgetting a sword would be awful. What would he do, use Falchion? That feels like blasphemy, and Naga would _definitely_ smite him. And that's _if_ Falchion even worked at all for him: according to Abel, who heard from Princess Caeda, Falchion isn’t good for much but blunt force if you’re not of the right bloodline. He’s pretty sure somebody said the same thing about Hauteclere, too…

But a blunt axe is a little more useful than a blunt sword, isn’t it? Because a blunt sword doesn’t do much but a blunt axe pretty much becomes a mace, and he can’t even _use_ maces because axes have never been his thing (unlike Abel who’s unfairly good at everything he tries to learn), but he could probably swing something heavy really hard at an enemy and make it work well enough.

This whole line of thought is probably making some divine being mad at him. Whatever, he’s everywhere right now. Why was he even thinking about that stuff?

Oh, right, weapons. They’ll need weapons. Weapons that won’t break quickly. And… well, _he_ needs a nap- which requires something to sleep on. Maybe they should bring some basic bedding and a few tents. Has to be light because they’re carrying it all themselves though.

At least they’re not taking Hauteclere with them, that would be a pain to carry. ...Why is he stuck on Hauteclere? And where is he even walking right now?

He stops, and takes a moment to figure out where he’s heading.

Seems like his patrol route. Of course. He was in the right area of the castle for the route he usually takes, after all. But he needs to go to… The kitchen? The pantry? All of the above? He could really use Sir Jagen here. Or Abel. Abel’s good at this stuff, he can keep whole lists in his head. Cain finds keeping two things in his head is hard right now. How anyone can do lists is beyond him.

Why is he at the kitchen? Wait, food. He needs to get food together… No, he really should ask Lorlei to help with that. Lorlei is good with details. He can focus on other things first. Like… He was thinking about water? Water holders? Cups? No, no, flasks, he was thinking about flasks. Why was he thinking about flasks? People needed them… _He_ needed them. Lorlei and the Twelfth and him, they all kind of need to drink water, so he should get those. Six of them. Right?

Lorlei, Aiden, Alex, Cedric, Terrius, himself… One two three four five six. Six? Is that right? One two three…

He grumbles another word Sir Jagen wouldn’t approve of if he said it in front of any higher-ups, and resorts to counting on his fingers. It’s six.

Today is a bad day. He’s tired and can’t count to six in his head and it’s not even noon. Or maybe it might be. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the message came. Time is hard and he doesn’t carry a pocketwatch on his person.

He goes in search of waterskins or flasks, whichever word is the one to use.

Maybe he should eat something, he wonders, as he passes the pantry. Is he hungry? Who knows. He knows they need a tent though, and beds. Beds? No, not beds. Bed rolls. Maybe. It’s extra stuff to carry, and not everyone is riding a horse- no, are they? Are Aiden and Terrius marching?

Cain sets the flask on a table against the wall to make sure he really does have six.

Those two marching seems unfair. Why don’t they get horses, is it because they’re not part of the royal guard? That’s just stupid! Draug is in the royal guard and _he_ doesn’t have a horse…

Wait.

... _What is he even_ thinking _right now?_

He _really_ needs a nap, Cain determines. Or at least some time in a quiet room for like an hour. If he can stand sitting still for that long. Maybe he needs to run through some sword drills. That sounds good, he thinks, so he turns to the doorway.

He's not doing drills with Falchion though because that wouldn’t be right _and he’s about to forget the waterskins._

He lets out a huff, and turns back around.

 

\---

 

Half an hour later, Cain has six waterskins, and the arrangements for one tent. And also he’s had something to eat, in the form of some jerky he took from the larder. It’s a start. Where is he even going to put everything he’s getting together? His room? In the barracks?

...Well, actually, it’s not like most of the guard are there right now. Draug is away, so is Gordin, and so on… So that should work nicely. He can get there without too many detours.

Hopefully.

 

The castle is weirdly quiet. Everyone whispers to one another as they go, as if being too loud will bring Archanea to them faster. It’s uncomfortable. It’s not like they’re under siege- at least, not yet.

He gets the waterskins to the barracks, sets them on his bed, and moves on to the next thing. Which is… Well, getting himself back in order. Sometimes a nap helps but he's not sleepy now that he considers it, usually a jog around the castle works but that isn’t really an option right now with everyone so on edge, so he’ll go with sword drills. Next stop, training yard.

Maybe he’ll set the dummies back up. He didn’t tell anyone to put them back, after all, so why would they? If they’re as scattered as he is, they sure wouldn’t-

He forgets to actually push when he puts a hand against the door to open it, and instead slams into it with a surprised grunt. Good thing no one saw that, and if anyone’s in the yard they’ll see him opening it properly.

...Oh. Apparently at least one person was not, in fact, scattered like he is, because the training dummies are back in their places. That’s nice, it’s good someone thought to put them back. Not like he’s going to use them, but someone else might.

Falchion’s weight is starting to throw him off, honestly. He’s gotten it attached to his belt, but it’s just different enough (and on his left side where usually he doesn't carry anything) that it’s weird and kind of uncomfortable. Maybe there’s a better option, but he can’t think of it right now. He’ll worry about it after he goes through his drills.

He finds an area that’s probably out of the way, draws his sword (his actual sword, not Falchion), and starts exercise one. Even just with that, things focus a little, and it's easier to hold onto one thought for more than five seconds.

What are they even going to do when they meet up with Prince Marth? March straight back to Altea, and stay there defending it? That doesn’t seem right.

Go to Archanea, take them out first? Do they have the manpower? Would they need Altea’s armies first… And then, wouldn't that leave Altea open to another attack by taking those soldiers? That’s worse than not going back at all!

He wishes Sir Jagen were here. He’d know how to handle this. Altea could use Sir Jagen, weathered and experienced, not Sir Cain, still in training as a captain and instructor and leader.

Second exercise. Falchion’s sheath keeps banging against the side of his leg. He refuses to consider setting it aside, even though it’s annoying. It's been entrusted to him and only him right now. Plus it's kinda magic and stuff and he can't afford to let something happen to it. It's had worse than being smacked around against someone's leg, anyways. He's sure of it.

He still needs to get things ready. Clothes, things for his horse, maybe a map or two because that will be handy… Speaking of his horse, that’s another person other than Kace who needs some extra rest afterwards. This is the second time he’s going to ask her to leave Altea for who knows how long.

(Please, Naga, don’t let it be another two years. Don’t let it be another war that takes a brother from him.)

...He skips the repetition on the second and goes to the third exercise. His side is starting to ache from the tiny amount of unfamiliar extra weight Falchion forces him to balance against, but it’s the kind that will go away if he pushes through it. It's dumb that his side even hurts at all to begin with. It's hardly any weight at all.

Stupid Gra.

Moving on, though- they’ll have to go north. South is out of the question, because Archanea is coming from there. But, Archanea is to the _northeast_. They didn’t even start from the place that made the most sense!

It’s becoming more and more clear this wasn’t anything even slightly rash. This was methodical and planned so far ahead that Grust was probably just to get Prince Marth and some of his best men out of the way. With Prince Marth, they could handle just about any force- they’d done it before!

They’d gone against Lady Minerva of Macedon and her Whitewings and against Camus of the Sable Knights, and against the Dark Dragon Medeus himself, along with an assassination attempt by Katarina’s group, and a lot of other battles in which sheer numbers were against them. What’s Archanea’s finest, against Altea’s and the forces they lead? Sir Jagen could out-tactics just about anyone, any day.

Though, the Princesses of Macedon helped a lot, so did Lena, and the Whitewings, and Abel isn’t here… It would be harder. A lot harder. They need everyone, don’t they. And they’d probably be fighting _against_ the wielders of the Regalia, instead of alongside them, this time. He’s not a fan of those odds.

He finishes the second repetition, and sheaths his sword again, taking a moment to let his breathing even out completely. Maybe physically he’s a little more tired, just barely, but he can finally focus properly again.

He needs to go find Lorlei, so they  can have them help him with preparations to leave. Archanea will be here tomorrow. At latest.

That's really not a lot of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! I used to have a schedule planned for this, but I've since forgot it. Yahoo.


End file.
